


Computer, Define "Sleepover"

by frondescence (axeljeldridge)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Awkward Conversations, Gen, M/M, Platonic Romance, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, The Princess Bride References, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axeljeldridge/pseuds/frondescence
Summary: “Your shared room assignments are on the PADDs posted outside the briefing room,” Kirk announced to the crew. The Enterprise is taking a ship full of ambassadors to a council meeting, but there's only barely enough space to do it. Room sharing and bed sharing shenanigans ensue, and Spock learns what a sleepover is.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 8
Kudos: 172
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	1. Chapter 1

The ambassador shook Kirk’s hand warmly as they stepped off the transporter pad, smiling at the rest of the crew. Their accompanying party, including two guards, a handmaiden, and their spouse, gave kurt bows to the crew. The crew was surprisingly stoic, even Scotty only giving a tense smile to the members of the party.   
The problem was, this was the fifteenth ambassadorial party to land on the USS Enterprise in the past ten hours. They had agreed to transport them again, on Starfleet orders, to the latest council meeting on some important issue. But unlike last time, they were the only starship in these outskirt planets’ area, and as such had to take on a much larger cohort than the Enterprise was technically capable of. Oh, she could carry them, Scotty had assured Kirk, but it’s the crew who won’t be happy about it.

“Your shared room assignments are on the PADDs posted outside the briefing room,” Kirk announced to the crew. They rarely made shipwide announcements in person, but this seemed important (and controversial) enough to warrant the use of the largest briefing room on the ship. After this, it would be transformed into bunk quarters for the lowest ranking crew. Kirk did not envy them. “I trust that all of you have the dignity and sense of duty to approach these arrangements with courtesy, respect, and graciousness to your fellow crew members. If you have serious concerns with your assigned quarters, you may take them up with Commander Brown. You have 8 hours to make the necessary arrangements in your quarters if yours are to be used as living space for one of the ambassadorial parties; if this is the case, I and Starfleet thank you for your sacrifice. The Enterprise will be living in very close quarters for the next week; I know that we will be able to get through it with no incident but I need your diligence and effort to ensure that. Thank you.”  
Kirk sighed as he watched commotion break lose over the crowd. Some crew immediately dashed to the PADD’s to check their assignment; a crowd quickly formed. He turned to Spock and Bones. “And thus starts the most stressful week of our career, gentlemen.”  
Bones scoffed. “If this is what you consider stressful, no wonder you’re in my medbay so often.” Jim smiled, eyes sparkling.   
“Are you and Scotty excited for your little sleepover, Bones?”   
“Are you kidding? I’m thrilled! I haven’t had a good glass of whiskey since we were on Soron V six months ago, and I would bet my left pinky that Scott is bringing his whole stash over.”  
“Alright,” Jim chuckled, “As long as you’re not asleep at your desk with a hangover!”  
“Hypos, Jim, I’m a doctor, remember?” Bones grinned conspiratorially, cuffing Jim on the shoulder. Jim smiled and pushed him away playfully. “Speaking of sleepovers, though, you ready to have possibly the first vulcan-human sleepover in history?” Bones seemed to ponder for a moment. “Say, Spock, do you even know what a sleepover is?”  
“Considering the term’s prevalence in our discussions regarding this mission, Doctor, I took the time to research it myself. I will say I am intrigued at the prospect of being able to experience a ‘sleepover;’ it is a fascinating human tradition.”  
Kirk guffawed, throwing an arm out over Spock’s shoulder. “We’re gonna have a great time, provided we get even a moment to sleep with all this nonsense.”

With the final ambassadorial party on board, Kirk collapsed back into the captain’s chair on the bridge. He sighed heavily before finally, finally ordering Chekov to plot a course to Delos III. With the many introductions, as well as the ceremonial dinner that would go well into the night later, it seemed that Kirk’s joke about his and Spock’s lack of sleep would be more fact than humor. It was going to be a tougher week than he thought.  
Spock already seemed more tense than usual. He was usually relatively calm around the crew, especially those who worked on the bridge; willing to crack a few subtle jokes and prone to many sarcastic eyebrow raises. But with so many strangers on the ship, and with so many of them casually taking a stroll onto the deck (why did they not have guards to that damn lift?), it was rare that Spock got a chance to let down his stiff, perfect Vulcan facade. Kirk could relate. He liked to joke with the bridge crew, liked to joke with Spock, but with someone new poking their heads in their business every hour, he had to keep the Captain Face on for far longer than usual. Even walking down the hall he had to remember seven different alien greetings. Bow, twist of the wrist, tap your left temple, tap your right temple, click your heels. He had sworn that the cultural information team was fucking with him with some of these greetings, but it seemed they were totally serious. Apparently the dance team at the Academy was worth putting on his resume: “Extensive Experience With Gorlan Formal Greeting.”   
\--  
Kirk entered the briefing room-turned-formal-dining room just as the last yeoman trickled out, wiping away a dropped crumb from the long table. Already, a few ambassadors were milling around, chatting and arguing and doing ambassador things. Kirk sighed. He looked around for someone to talk to, recognizing none of the ambassadors despite the Council’s assurance that he’d have at least a few familiar faces on board, as if that made up for things when most of the time a familiar face was either an ex or an enemy. Luckily, the entrance behind him hissed as it slid open, and Kirk turned to a truly welcome familiar face.  
“Mr. Spock, am I glad to see you.”  
“I am pleased also to find you present, Captain,” Spock replied, the twitch in the corner of his eyes betraying his honesty. Kirk beamed in response.   
“Why don’t we find a decent seat at this table where we can gossip about all these people, huh?” He grabbed Spock’s elbow and steered him over to the head of the table. Since he was the Captain, it would be pertinent for him to sit at the head, as to avoid the inevitable interplanetary war that would erupt when the Frusian ambassador and the Quare ambassador inevitably both tried to sit there. Kirk sank into the chair with a barely suppressed sigh, staring morosely at his empty plate. “You think they’d at least give us appetizers, right?”  
“Captain, with the increased capacity of travelers on the Enterprise, we must conserve food from the replicators. Even with their technology we do still have a limited supply.”  
“I know,” Kirk complained, watching more ambassadors, and more guards, trickle in. He watched carefully as his men settled into their positions on the perimeters of the room. They were perfect statues, and Kirk smiled as he watched one ensign get unsuccessfully wooed by one of the handmaidens from Urak. He made a mental note to give her additional leave later that month. The room filled, and with it, the table. There was room only for the ambassadors, an awkward reality of the Enterprise’s small space that left many of the guards jostling for shoulder space behind the chairs at the table. When the small rabbit looking man, an ambassador from Euis, scampered to his seat at last, Kirk cleared his throat and stood at the head.   
“To the continued health and prosperity of all seated at this table, their people, and to Starfleet: a toast!” He lifted his glass, and the ambassadors and Spock lifted theirs as well. Spock clinked his glass to the edge of Kirk’s, a near obsolete Earth custom that made Kirk smile despite himself.   
“Hear, hear!” cried some of the ambassadors, and they all began to eat.   
It was an excruciating night of small talk, condolences, congratulations, and trying desperately to remember hundreds of names. He was, as always, extremely grateful for Spock’s presence. Not only because of his ability to remember far more details about the planets and customs of the various ambassadors, but for the quiet comments he made after they left, noting an illogical statement they made or muttering about something “fascinating” on their person. Kirk found himself, as the last of the ambassadors finally took their leave of him, actually snorting at some of Spock’s jokes. He forgave himself the un-captain-like behavior, however; he was tired, and who was to say that snorting wasn’t his custom? Respect for all cultures, and whatnot.  
Finally, the very last guard filtered away, and the door slid shut for the last time.   
The sigh that rang out across the room was complete; if Kirk wasn’t so tired he would be confident that even Spock let out a tiny exhale. The guards nearly sagged against the wall, and one visibly stifled a yawn. Kirk stood, rubbing his temples. “Thank you all, wonderful job. Dismissed.” The guards nearly tripped over each other as they scrambled for the exit. “Remember what quarters you are assigned to, all of you,” Kirk called after them, hoping they were awake enough not to disturb some poor unsuspecting ambassador out of habit. He turned to Spock.  
“I am absolutely, utterly exhausted. I think I might sleep right on this table.”  
“Captain, that would certainly be an ill-advised choice,” Spock replied, standing up.  
“A joke,” Kirk muttered. “It was a joke.” He stood up as well, thanking the last yeoman as she cleared away the final dishes.  
“I know, Captain,” Spock replied. “But it still would not be well advised.” Kirk smiled.   
“Let’s get some rest.” 

James Kirk was proud of his quarters. He chose his decorations carefully, with care to keep the room personal but not cluttered. He kept it neat and clean, something that his mother used to swear was an impossible feat for Jim. Nights with Bones and Scotty over for drinks and conversation, and evenings with Spock for chess, and afternoons with Uhura to talk about the latest serial of their favorite novel; all of these made the several hundred square feet feel homely, feel safe.   
But as he and Spock walked in together, the small duffle bag at the end of his desk caught his eye. The room looked different, somehow, knowing that he and Spock would be staying here, together, for a week. It wasn’t like Spock didn’t spend time in his room; they were neighbors, friends, after all. But this was different. Somehow.  
“Welcome home, Commander,” Kirk said lightly, gesturing dramatically at the room. Spock nodded with an eyebrow raised and went to pick up his duffel, digging through it for something.   
“I am going to prepare for sleep,” Spock said, holding up a bundle of cloth that Kirk assumed were pajamas.   
“Oh, right,” Kirk replied, awkwardly giving a thumbs up. “I’ll, um, do that too.” They shared a bathroom normally, but something about knowing that Spock wouldn’t be leaving through the other side of the door after disappearing into their bathroom made Kirk feel a little flustered. He changed into his own pajamas, kicking his shoes over by the door.   
Standing in the bathroom together brushing their teeth, it almost did feel like a sleepover. Kirk grinned at Spock in the mirror. Spock raised an eyebrow at him.   
“You know, if I wasn’t so tired I’d suggest we watch a movie or play Truth or Dare, make this a real sleepover.”   
“I learned of these traditions when I researched ‘sleepovers,’ Captain,” Spock replied. “I would also like to partake, but perhaps another night would be a better choice of action. I am also quite tired.”  
“I guess we do have a week, huh,” Kirk admitted, hanging up his hand towel. “And Spock?”  
“Yes, Captain?”  
“Just call me Jim, please; I’ve had to be ‘Captain’ for too long today.” Jim smiled tiredly.  
“Very well, Jim.”  
“Thanks, Spock. To bed then?”   
“That would be logical.” Spock’s eyebrow twitched up just the slightest, and Kirk laughed.   
“God you’re funny sometimes. Do you know that? You’re really funny.”  
“Jim, Vulcans do not tell jokes.” Spock’s eyebrow twitched higher. Kirk laughed louder. He put a hand on Spock’s arm.  
“Right, of course. How could I forget, when my Vulcan first officer is the most stoic, most perfectly logical, and most boring person on this Starship?” Kirk raised his own eyebrow. Spock pursed his lips and his eyebrow leapt up. Kirk grinned; he knew that was the equivalent of a guffaw from Spock. “In fact, he’s so boring he’s putting me to sleep right now,” Kirk continued, with a real yawn to punctuate his statement.   
“I do not think it is my actions that are making you tired, Jim,” Spock said. Kirk chuckled.  
“Nah, you’ve been the only thing keeping me awake all night. But I do need to sleep, and so do you.” Kirk crossed the room, checking his PADD one last time before clicking it off for the night. “Computer, end of day status report”   
“All systems functional. Life support functioning at normal capacity. Currently heading 127-mark-214 at warp speed five towards Delos III. All personnel at stations. Commander Sulu is currently in command of the bridge. Six captain’s logs and two personal logs logged in the past 24 hours. No messages from Starfleet.”   
Kirk nodded, stifling another yawn. “Kirk to Sulu.”  
“Sulu here.”  
“Status report?”  
“All is well, Captain. Heading 127-mark-214 at warp speed five towards Delos III.”  
“Thank you, Sulu. Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight Captain.”  
Kirk straightened up and turned his comm to ‘Emergency Only.’ He yawned widely. 

“Captain- ah, Jim,” Spock said quietly. Kirk turned to face him, feeling a blush come across his face. He had briefly forgotten that Spock was there as he completed his nightly ritual.   
“Yes Spock?”  
“I have often wondered why you hail the commander serving gamma shift, as I have noticed you seem to do so every night, at least when I am on duty.” Spock’s brow was slightly furrowed.  
“I want to be sure everything is running smoothly,” Kirk replied. “Can’t sleep otherwise.”  
“But the computer can confirm all of this to you; why contact the acting commander?”  
Kirk paused. How could he explain the simple need to hear someone say goodnight before he went to sleep? To know that someone was up, watching over everything, before he was able to drift into oblivion. “Let’s say it gives me emotional support,” Kirk said wearily. Spock nodded slowly. Kirk sighed. He reached over Spock’s shoulder and turned out the light. The lamp by his bedside cast a warm glow, lighting up Spock’s cheekbones and the edges of his brow softly golden. Kirk watched as his eyes adjusted to the light, pupils widening and streaks of amber alighting within them. Kirk swallowed and turned away. “Which side of the bed do you want?”  
“I have no preference.” Spock’s voice was soft and low over Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk nodded silently. The bedside lamp blinded him for a moment as he lay down on the side closest to the comm, so he only just caught Spock straightening back up at the foot of the bed. 

“Did you just put my shoes away?” Kirk asked, voice low.  
“Yes. I did not want either of us to trip on them if we had to arise later tonight,” Spock replied, climbing into bed next to Kirk. For a moment, the domesticity of the moment shocked Kirk breathless. He turned to his side to avoid looking at Spock as he lay down, staring intently at the wall. A silence settled over them, and Kirk found himself again thinking of childhood sleepovers, that moment when gossip and confessions have settled into the carpet and everyone is silent, though awake, listening to each other breathe and think.   
Kirk huffed, and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Spock.”  
“Goodnight Jim.”


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk woke up slowly, just before his alarm went off. The lights in his quarters were just barely starting to come up, simulating sunrise. He blinked a few times, slowly becoming aware of himself. The blanket over him was soft, and the room was the perfect temperature. He was about to doze off again, trusting his alarm to go off soon, when he began to recognize a weight against his back. It was warm, and felt safe. Jim suddenly realized that he felt very rested, more rested than he’s felt in a long time. At the same time, he realized that the weight against his back is Spock. This combination of realizations was enough to fully knock him to consciousness, and he laid perfectly still for a moment, listening. Under the hum of the engines and the quiet murmuring of the night crew finishing their shifts outside, he could just hear Spock’s breathing, regular and light. He found himself settling back against the weight, just slightly; settling into that feeling of safety. He realized as he did that Spock had wrapped his fists into his shirt. It occurred to him that Spock was likely cold in the night; consciously or not, he has buried himself against Kirk for warmth. Kirk found himself smiling at that, just the smallest bit.

And then his alarm went off.

Kirk groaned, smacking his hand into the console next to his bed. As he did, Spock sat up rigidly beside him, fully awake at once. Kirk rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the exhaustion from yesterday hit him again. “Morning,” he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Jim.” Spock’s voice was gravelly but firm. Kirk looked at him, concerned. “I must apologize. I slept very close to you last night, as it seems the temperature in the room caused me to seek warmth. I will wear warmer night clothing tonight so as to avoid this in the future.” Spock looked intently at his lap. Kirk furrowed his brow.

“Spock, it’s fine, really,” he replied. “We can turn the heat up if you want, but I really don’t mind. Trust me.” Kirk tried to catch Spock’s eye, to give him a reassuring smile, but Spock was intent on finding his clothes for the day from his small bag. Kirk held back a sigh as he went to his own closet. 

The bridge was bustling with activity when Kirk and Spock arrived, riding the lift together in tandem after a shared replicator breakfast. Sulu nodded at him as he left, and Kirk patted him on the shoulder in thanks. The Quarian ambassador was looking out the viewfinder when Kirk sat down in the captain’s chair, and Chekov was politely trying to peer around her as she blocked his view. Kirk coughed lightly, catching the ambassador’s attention. Chekov shot him a grateful smile as Kirk resigned himself to talking to the Quarian for the next several minutes, if not hours. 

Luckily, she was a good conversationalist; namely, she knew when to shut up. Kirk nodded at her as he listened to Uhura’s report from Starfleet; nothing out of the ordinary but Kirk frowned at it nonetheless. It always put him in a slightly sour mood getting a message from Starfleet that wasn’t entirely necessary. But when they had sent him on such a backwoods, overburdened mission such as this? It was flat out insulting. Kirk sighed softly, then stood up to stretch his legs. The Quarian ambassador finally made her goodbyes and stepped into the turbolift, leaving Kirk to happily peer over the shoulders of his crew and get his nose into their business for a change. Chekov good heartedly moved his head aside to show him their bearings, but Uhura, as always, made a show of checking her nails as she leaned far over her console, hiding the controls. Kirk laughed and made a few comments to her in Andorian, pushing her until she finally laughed too and showed him the panel reading “0 MESSAGES.” She patted him on the shoulder as he left to go lean against the railing behind Spock’s station, watching him work. The screens whirred with light and his fingers moved deftly across the many buttons in front of him, checking and rechecking the various instruments that scanned space around them for anomalies and other vessels. From what Kirk could tell, everything was normal; he knew, however, that Spock had modified some of these panels to his liking so comparing them to the Academy-taught standard was useless. Kirk liked it that way. It gave him an excuse to pester Spock about it.

“Mr. Spock,” he began, reveling in the way Spock’s ears just barely twitched at the sound of his name. “Status report?”

“All readings normal, Captain,” Spock replied, still staring at the screen. Kirk grinned, watching Spock steadfastly continue to work. He leaned against the guardrail, relaxing for a moment. Despite sleeping better than he had in months, Jim was still tired. 

At least, Jim assumed he was tired, because all he could think about was returning to bed with Spock. Sitting in the Captain’s chair trundling at Warp 4 through the boonies of Quadrant 3 was not a particularly scintillating pastime on a good day, so Kirk tried not to think too hard about the fact that he kept glancing at Spock and then the clock, counting the minutes until the end of their shift so he could go lie down again. Starfleet had blessedly excused them of the usual required ambassadorial dinners due to the lengthiness of their trip, so they wouldn’t have to endure that again until the end of the week, but as the clock finally hit 1800, Kirk was loudly reminded that sleep was not the only bodily function he was required to attend to.

“Captain, was that your stomach?” Uhura asked cheekily, lounging half out of his chair. 

Kirk suppressed a blush, standing. “Yes, Lieutenant,” he admitted testily. “Twelve hour shifts will do that to a man.” He stretched, glancing at his crew. Everyone looked about as exhausted as he felt, even the oncoming new shift. Spock was actually seated at his station, rather than intently bent over his computers as usual. Kirk waved his hand, gesturing towards the turbolift. “Let’s get grub.”

\--

McCoy joined them in the mess hall with Scotty, already grumbling as he sat down. 

“These damn Andorians, can’t even  _ look  _ at another species without catching some cold they don’t have an immunity to,” McCoy complained, waving his fork wildly, causing Sulu to lean back and blink groggily.

“Watch it, Leonard,” he said, grabbing the fork out of McCoy’s hand and placing it back on the table. “And mind your complaining too,” he pointed at Chekov, who snapped his mouth shut. “At least you’re alpha shift.” Scotty nodded pointedly, pouring more sugar into his oatmeal. 

“Another day and you’ll feel fine,” Kirk said tiredly, staring at his parmesan chicken. Creeping in at the corners of his thoughts was the undeniable pull of bed; of lying down, Spock lying next to him, and falling asleep. Kirk shook himself, stabbing the chicken with his fork. “Though not if Chekov keeps you up partying,” he said, raising a teasing eyebrow. 

“Do not worry, Captain,” Chekov said, grinning. “There is partying happening plenty among the ambassadors.” 

Sulu rolled his eyes fondly and took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t suppose you’ll be joining them, Jim?” he asked, eyeing the table of Korians, who were pruning themselves over their replicated salads. 

Kirk chuckled. “No, I’m trying to catch every moment in bed possible,” he replied.

“I bet,” Uhura said under her breath. Chekov choked on his food, stifling a laugh. Kirk furrowed his brow, staring around at his crew who suddenly were very busy eating their food.

“What?” he asked tersely, meeting eyes with Spock. Spock raised an eyebrow, an invisible shrug. “What’s so funny, really?” Kirk demanded.

“Nothing, Jim, we just know you’re tired,” McCoy said placatingly, patting Jim’s shoulder. “Finish your chicken and straight to bed, doctor’s orders,” he teased. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kirk replied, waving him off. He caught Uhura’s eye as he finished his meal, noticing a mischievous sparkle in her smile that made him eat just a little bit faster. 

“Alright, I’m dead on my feet,” Jim announced, standing. “I’m heading to bed. Spock?” He noticed Sulu bury an elbow into Chekov’s side, who was frantically chugging his glass of milk and not looking at Kirk. Spock stood, oblivious. 

“Yes, Captain,” he replied, stacking his cup neatly onto his plate and holding out a hand to take Kirk’s as well. Kirk handed him his dishes and smiled softly, nodding a quiet thanks. He turned back to the table, noticing that everyone was staring at the two of them, and Uhura had that grin again. 

“Goodnight, or good morning, whichever is appropriate, I guess,” Kirk said, holding back a fond eye roll.

“‘Night, Captain,” Chekov said, waving.

“Sleep well, Kirk,” Uhura said, and shooed him off. Kirk walked away shaking his head, catching up with Spock at the door. He just caught someone saying “Oh, I’m sure he will” over laughter as he left, but Kirk decided he was far too tired to try and figure out what that meant. He and Spock walked in companionable silence back to their room. 

  
  


With the door closing behind him, Kirk sighed. Spock crossed the room and sat at the desk, turning on the computer. Kirk suddenly felt wide awake. 

“Captain,” Spock started– “Jim, please,” Kirk interrupted – “Jim, since you indicated your exhaustion, you should sleep immediately, do not wait for me. I will finish some work here while you rest and sleep later.”

“Oh, Spock, that’s very nice, but I’m actually not very tired anymore, I’m not sure why.” Jim sat down across from Spock, pulling off his boots.

Spock looked at him quizzically, before shutting off the computer again. “In that case, perhaps you would be amenable to a ‘sleepover’ activity?” he asked. 

Kirk smiled. “Of course! We should watch a movie,” he suggested. 

“Is there a specific movie that would be appropriate for a sleepover?” Spock asked. “I presume a Vulcan documentary on palynology would not be within normal parameters.”

“Not quite,” Kirk chuckled, flicking on the screen by his bed. “Maybe we can watch that tomorrow. For a true sleepover, we need to watch something classic, like  _ The Princess Bride.” _

“I am not familiar with that film,” Spock admitted curiously. He sat delicately on the edge of the bed across from Jim, meticulously taking off his boots.

“You’ll love it,” Kirk said, swinging into bed and tossing his shirt off to the side. “It’s highly illogical.”

“I would expect such, from Terran media,” Spock replied, pulling the blankets up over his legs. He sat perfectly upright against the headboard, watching Kirk bring the movie up on the screen in front of them. 

“Why does he not simply speak his meaning?” Spock asked, five minutes into the movie. “His feelings are requited, are they not?”

“Yeah,” Kirk murmured sleepily. “But he can’t just say it.”

“Why not?”

“He just can’t!”

“Then how will she know that he is in love with her?”

“Just wait, he saves her life a bunch. So she knows,” Kirk said, dozing off, “that he loves her.” Spock nodded slowly, silent.

_ Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.  _

Kirk awoke with a sniff, blinking slowly. His cheek was pressed against something warm, and for some reason he was still sitting upright. Blinking again, he blurrily saw the boy on the screen wave to his grandfather.  _ The Princess Bride… I love that movie,  _ Kirk thought drowsily.  _ Great sleepover movie.  _

Kirk sat up suddenly, leaning away from Spock and rubbing his face. “Guess I was more tired than I thought,” Jim said sheepishly. “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Spock replied, his voice soft. 

“Did you like it?

“Very much.” 

“You didn’t think it was too illogical?” Kirk teased, yawning.

“No. I found the characters were justified in their actions at the end.”

“I’m glad,” Kirk smiled, rubbing his eyes. He flicked off the screen, the credit music cutting off into silence. “What now?”

“It would be logical now to sleep, Jim,” Spock said pointedly as Jim yawned again. 

“We can’t sleep!” Jim argued. “We haven’t played truth or dare!”

“Is that necessary to consider this a sleepover?” 

“Yes,” Jim said petulantly. “It’s absolutely necessary.”

“Very well,” Spock acquiesced, crossing his legs and turning to face Jim. “I am familiar with the rules. Shall I begin?”

“Sure!” Jim smiled, triumphant. 

“Truth or dare?”

“Umm… Truth.”

“Are you tired?”

“Spock!”

“What? I have asked you a question to which I wish for you to respond truthfully.” Spock’s lip quirked, hiding laughter.

“Goddamnit. Fine, dare then.”

“I dare you to go to sleep.”

“Spock! You’re no fun!” Kirk laughed, stifling another yawn. “You have to ask me a real question or I’m not sleeping. Just one.”

“Very well,” Spock said, lapsing into silent thought for a moment. 

“There has to be something that you want to know, and I have to tell the truth,” Kirk pointed out, needling. “Some embarrassing story, or if I’ve ever committed a crime, or if I have a crush on anyone, or–”

“I have a question.”

Suddenly, Kirk remembered just how terrifying a game of truth or dare could be. He bit his lip. “Shoot.”

“Did you truly ‘not mind’ my sleeping close to you last night?” Spock asked, suddenly looking at his lap. 

Kirk’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course not!” he replied quickly. His mind was still reeling over the question–of all the things to ask, why this? It was surprisingly vulnerable; Kirk found himself wondering if Spock had been worried about this all day. He considered for a moment, unable to catch Spock’s eye. “Actually,” he continued slowly, “that was the best I’ve slept in years.”

Spock looked up, meeting Jim’s gaze. “You have seemed quite tired today, Jim. Are you certain you are honoring the rules of the game?”

“Yes,” Kirk replied earnestly, “I’m telling the truth. Honestly,” Jim paused. “I think I’ve felt tired not because I actually wanted to sleep, but just because I wanted to be back here.” With you, he left unspoken into the silence. Spock nodded slowly, looking away. 

“My turn,” Kirk said quickly, breaking the silence between them. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” Spock said quietly. 

Kirk considered for a moment. “If I was okay with it,” he began slowly, “would you sleep close to me again tonight?” He finished nearly whispering, rubbing the back of his neck. Why did he ask that? He watched the bridge of Spock’s nose flush and felt his own cheeks heat up. He tried to backtrack, suddenly frantic: “Nevermind, you don’t have to–”

“The rules of the game necessitate a truthful answer, correct?” Spock asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” Kirk whispered. “But really, if you don’t–”

“Yes.” Spock looked at his lap. “I would.”

“Oh.”

“If you were certain you were amenable to the arrangement. I also,” Spock looked up, “found the night to be more restful than usual.”

A slow smile spread across Kirk’s face, along with a deep blush. He looked down, suddenly finding sleep very enticing. “Well,” he said softly, “in that case, I think we’ve completed the normal activities that constitute a sleepover.” 

“Except sleeping, of course,” Spock said.

“Actually, contrary to the name, that’s not a necessary component of a sleepover,” Kirk said, sliding down under the covers. Spock laid down next to him as well, pulling the blankets up over them both. 

“Highly illogical,” he said, yawning. Kirk laughed softly, shaking his head. He turned onto his side and felt Spock adjust behind him, laying close. Kirk gently reached behind himself and grabbed Spock’s hand, pulling his arm over so he could lay against Spock’s chest. 

“Is this alright?”

“Quite,” Spock said softly, adjusting so he was holding Jim against him. Jim felt drowsier and drowsier, the warmth and safety surrounding him lulling him to sleep. He squeezed Spock’s hand gently, and smiled.

“G’night Spock.”

“Goodnight, Jim. Sleep well.”

“I will. Sleep well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This is the longest fic I've written and my first contribution to the fandom goliath that is k/s, so I'm really excited about it. Much of the alien and planet names are nonsense, but palynology is a real thing! It's the geological study of pollen grains. Shoutout to my friend for giving me a nerdy topic for Spock to want to watch a documentary on. And a big shoutout to the ST Summer Bingo 2020! It's been so fun working with all these artists and writers; check out the rest of the works in the collection!


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